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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520697">What Might Be Lurking in the Greenwater Chamiweed?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/pseuds/Gammarad'>Gammarad</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow Works [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cryptids, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Lake Tahoe, Podcasting, Reno NV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:14:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/pseuds/Gammarad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny podcasts about cryptids. Her producer Terry has a secret -- two secrets, if you count that she's got a crush on Ginny and if only there wasn't such a risk to the <i>other</i> secret... </p><p>Will Ginny's paranoia keep her from finding out, or will her lack of good sense let her stumble onto the truth?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Human Character/Original Female Cryptid Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow Works [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Robot Rainbow 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Might Be Lurking in the Greenwater Chamiweed?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts">Nununununu</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the pairing <i>Paranoid Cryptid Podcaster/Strong Yet Gentle Producer Who Is Secretly A Cryptid</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Next on Secrets of the City, we interview Lenore Boivert and her latest invention! Then we take you on a tour of the sewers as they were one hundred years ago, with Crypto Craig, the pseudonymous discoverer of the Phantom Toadstool. Shy</i> -- "Cut!" Ginny grimaced and stopped. </p><p>"The script says 'she,' not 'shy,'" Ginny's producer said softly. She always spoke softly. Her voice was low and sweet and Ginny kept trying to get her to go on air, on tape, whatever, to talk in the podcast, but Terry always said no. </p><p>"Ah fuck," Ginny shouted, slapping the sound effects board so hard it buzzed louder than the feedback squeal from her mic. </p><p>The tiny smile on Terry's lips was worth the momentary headache. Ginny liked it when the usually serious producer was amused, even if it was by one of her rare mistakes. "I got you up to Phantom Toadstool," Terry said, a hint of laughter in her tone even if she was still all business. "Go ahead at three, two, one," her hand came down and that was Ginny's cue.</p><p><i>She was one of the first cryptids on record in our fair city, and since our sewer system was drainage only until the fifties, she lived happily without human waste for decades. The toadstool people, well, we will hear all about that from Crypto Craig next week!</i> Ginny gave the thumbs up as she finished the outro. </p><p>"That's a wrap," Terry said. </p><p>Ginny took the opportunity to watch Terry without it getting weird as the producer played back the recordings into her headphones to make sure she'd got the sound balance right before they packed up and got out of the studio for the day. Her producer was tall and really built, a treat to look at, and though she was a bit shy and often kind of hunched over, probably had been teased as a kid about being so tall, Ginny thought, when Terry was concentrating on her work she forgot about that and was simply herself. </p><p>"It's all in the can," Terry said. Ginny couldn't help laughing, all these old fashioned terms that Terry liked to use really tickled her sometimes. Terry didn't look that old, but maybe was one of those eighties throwback hipster types secretly or listened to their podcasts for sound techies or something. Didn't matter, it was a cute quirk. "What's so funny, hm?" Terry raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"Wish I could raise just one eyebrow like that," Ginny told her. "Doesn't 'in the can' mean using the bathroom? Sometimes I wonder if you're a time traveler or something, the way you talk." </p><p>"That's right," Terry said, deadpan. "Oh yeah, because we need to pre-record that interview with the inventor, I have a family thing next week. I'll be gone for about ten days." </p><p>"You didn't have all these family things last year," Ginny protested. </p><p>"Last year was odd," Terry said. "I only, er, time travel in even-numbered years." She hunched over more than usual after she said that. </p><p>Ginny almost felt bad about teasing her. But only almost. She thought of something else. "Your family is going to Lake Tahoe, huh, to look for Tessie?" The cryptid sea-monster who mostly showed up in even years.</p><p>"What? No. What are you talking about?" Terry sounded really flustered. Her family must be as awful as Ginny's. </p><p>"Don't worry, I know you aren't secretly hunting cryptids without me." Ginny bit her lip nervously. She had been a lot more confident about that before she said it out loud. What if Terry was going to ditch her and start her own cryptid podcast? Or produce for one of her competitors? She grabbed Terry's wrist, which was oddly clammy. "You aren't, right? I need you. You're the best producer, Terry."</p><p>"Of course not," Terry said. She put her hand over top of Ginny's hand that was still on her wrist. "I like working with you. We're a team." Terry's palm, unlike her wrist, was strong and warm and dry against the back of Ginny's hand. "Just family stuff. You know how it is. We'll record Lenore and her robot girlfriend, I'll get it ready to air, and then I'll be back in time to tape whoever you line up for the show after that. I promise."</p><p>"We're the best team," Ginny agreed, letting go of Terry's wrist and turning her hand in Terry's grasp around so they were palm to palm. She wanted to say more, her cheeks heating up with what was probably a blush, but for now, it was enough to be holding hands. </p><p>They walked out of the studio hand in hand. As they opened the door, a bunch of butterflies fluttered past. A time traveler, Ginny thought. While Terry was out of town, she'd find one to interview for the show.</p><p> </p><p>-----------</p><p> </p><p>Probably it was a terrible idea to show up to Terry's family reunion or whatever it was as a surprise, but Ginny was the past master at making terrible ideas work for her. She could interview the family about the Lake Tahoe cryptid while she was there, she thought, packing her portable interview gear. It was only about an hour's drive.</p><p>When she got to the resort -- she'd found it by reverse-lookup of the number Terry gave her to call to leave messages, saying cell phones were always out of range there -- Ginny parked and went into the office, where they told her nothing, but she saw Terry's name in a guestbook while they were fetching her a pamphlet. You didn't get to be one of the best cryptid podcasters in the business by letting people stonewall you, that was Ginny's motto. One of her mottoes, anyway. She knew how to get the information she needed.</p><p>There was Terry, standing on the pier looking down into the water. There were a couple other figures nearby, one short and one even taller than Terry, must be practically a giant. Ginny headed over at a fast walk, her quick stride carrying her there in almost no time. They didn't notice her until she was on the pier itself, where her footsteps echoed more loudly than they had in the grass or on the sand.</p><p>"Hello, who are you?" the man with Terry asked Ginny. </p><p>She ignored him and waved her hand at Terry. "Hi! Guess what?"</p><p>"Ginny," Terry said, barely audible. </p><p>"I said guess what, not guess who, but you got me," Ginny said, laughing and moving closer to Terry. </p><p>Terry backed away, just a little, toward the edge of the pier. </p><p>Ginny frowned. The man moved to block Ginny, and she dodged around him toward Terry.</p><p>"Hey, lady, what do you think--" He really was a giant, Ginny thought as he loomed over her. Huge broad shoulders and almost no neck, a bullet-shaped head with a buzz cut, but she didn't think about it as she sidestepped around him. </p><p>"Terry, what's wrong?" Ginny reached for her.</p><p>Terry took another step back and lost her footing. For a moment, Ginny thought she'd catch herself, but no. Terry's arms clutched helplessly at nothing as she went down backward, and Ginny -- reaching too late and too incautiously to help her -- fell in after. </p><p>The water was deeper and darker than it had looked from above, not that Ginny had really been looking down at the water under the pier before she'd fallen in. She went down, down, and then realized she ought to be going up, where the air was, and started swimming back up. There was a dark oval above her next to the long shadow of the pier itself. At first she thought it was the bottom of a boat, but there hadn't been any boats at the pier when she fell off. </p><p>When she got almost to the surface, her lungs were burning with the need for air. She pressed against a warm soft something that was definitely not a boat, and -- flippers ? -- pushed her the last couple of feet past the sea-sky barrier. Ginny gasped life into her lungs and blinked the water out of her eyes. She was lying on something warm and comfortable -- a life raft? But it felt confusingly more like living skin than inflated plastic.</p><p>The child up on the pier was laughing so hard she almost started to choke. "You -- fell right in on top of her!" More laughter. Ginny wobbled to her feet on the not a life raft - her shoes had come off in the water, so she was barefoot. She wondered if she still had the spare sneakers in the car that she kept there in case she got into an unplanned foot chase. Those happened more often than she had expected, in the pursuit of cryptid knowledge, Ginny had found.</p><p>Slowly the realization dawned on her, she was standing on a cryptid her very own self right this exact moment! The fabled even year creature of Lake Talos, Tessie, was, was saving Ginny's life, or at least assisting her out of the water, because it wasn't like she didn't know how to swim perfectly well and she would have been fine. But still, it wasn't every day a cryptid kind of tried to help a podcaster, was it? This would be great. </p><p>She had to tell Terry. Where was Terry anyway? </p><p>"Terry?" Was Terry drowning? Ginny looked around frantically but didn't see Terry in the water or up on the pier. "Shit!" Ginny dived off the -- whatever she had been standing on and tried to look under the water. She had forgotten for that panic-filled moment that she wasn't wearing a swimsuit or goggles, and she saw nothing useful under the water either, but she had to save Terry, so she swam around as best she could. </p><p>The cryptid that had helped her before followed her and kept trying to nudge her upward out of the water, stopping her from finding Terry. There, its true nature was revealed, it hadn't been trying to save her, it had been trying to stop her from saving Terry! Ginny tried frantically to escape the cryptid but it was no use, it was faster and more maneuverable and bigger than her and she couldn't get past it. Terry was going to die and it was all this cryptid's fault.</p><p>When she was too tired to get around it any more, the cryptid pushed Ginny back up onto the pier. She lay there panting, soaking wet, her waterlogged clothes feeling heavier than clothes ever ought to feel. The little girl stood nearby. "Kid, your aunt or whatever is drowning and you're just standing there! I tried to save her but that -- creature -- wouldn't let me!" Ginny assumed the child was a relative of Terry's, though she had no way to know for sure. </p><p>The child started laughing. Laughing! At a time like this! Ginny was outraged. Through her laughter, the girl managed a few audible words. " -- be fine -- any monster -- know anything?" was all Ginny could make out.</p><p>"For all you know that monster <i>ate her in one bite!</i>" Ginny snapped with the last of her adrenaline. It was all too much for her. She lay limply on the pier and wasn't sure if the water trickling down her temples was tears or lake water. She probably wasn't crying, only because she was too tired to cry, even though she was sad enough to cry. Sad for Terry, her kind and attractive friend who might someday have been more, sad for her show and for her audience who needed to know things about cryptids, things they'd never learn now that everything was ruined. Her eyes were stinging too much for Ginny to keep them open.</p><p>"Ginny," said a soft voice. It sounded like Terry, but Terry was dead, so maybe it was one of her relatives with a nearly identical way of talking. </p><p>"Did Terry tell you my name?" she asked. Of course Terry had been telling her family about Ginny, she thought with a mix of satisfaction and longing. About the show, probably, and how --</p><p>"Ginny, it's me," the voice interrupted Ginny's train of thought. Terry was alive! Somehow she'd got out of the water and -- Ginny opened her eyes and immediately wished she'd never closed them. She might have seen something she really wanted to see! Terry was wrapping the child's towel around herself. Apparently the cryptid had eaten all her clothes but left her unharmed, an ideal outcome if only Ginny hadn't been so unlucky as to close her eyes at exactly the wrong moment.</p><p>"I'm so glad you're all right. What was that thing? Did it eat your clothes or just tear them off you? Do they usually do that, do you think, have you seen one before when you were here? Is that why your family comes here only in even years, to see the creatures --" Ginny's huge relief that Terry was all right and not drowned nor eaten came out in a cascade of questions that overlapped one another so fast there would not have been time for answers even if anyone had seemed likely to give them, which they didn't.</p><p>During the deluge of questions, Terry and her young cousin were giving each other uncomfortable looks. </p><p>"Do the creatures have any kind of tentacles? I didn't see any, but maybe they retract? Is that why it was taking your clothes off?" Ginny was starting to feel like maybe these were questions she shouldn't ask with a child present.</p><p>The child in question seemed to agree. "How many hentai have you <i>watched</i>?" she demanded. "Too many, you're worse than the kid who--"</p><p>Terry shook her head frantically, blushing. "Don't say that, she--"</p><p>"I haven't actually seen any," Ginny admitted. "But that's what happens, right?"</p><p>Terry sneezed. The child looked from one of them to the other, rolled her eyes -- what a rude child -- and without another word, turned away and walked toward the main building of the resort. Terry watched her go, shivering, sneezing again as she turned back toward Ginny.</p><p>She must be cold, Ginny thought suddenly. "Do you have extra clothes somewhere? You must have packed a suitcase? Or I have a blanket in my car," she offered. </p><p>"Thank you," Terry said softly. "All my things are in a cabin over this way." She waved in the direction of her room and started walking toward it. </p><p>Ginny kept pace with her.  "It really didn't try to eat you, or -- molest you?"</p><p>"No, it didn't do either of those things." Terry's voice was almost inaudible, but her words were clear. </p><p>Ginny wasn't sure if she was more relieved, because Terry hadn't been hurt, or disappointed, because it was not as good of a story. Probably she was more relieved. But she was definitely also disappointed. "I wonder if there's any more of them?" Maybe the other ones were more exciting?</p><p>"No, I think there's only the one." Terry's voice was a little louder, now that there was no one near, just the two of them right outside the door to her room. Her tone was wistful.</p><p>"That sounds kind of lonely," Ginny said. It did. Even for a cryptid, being lonely deserved a little sympathy.</p><p>Terry put her arm around Ginny's shoulders as they went into her room. It was very warm. "Not really. Not anymore."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to Entropy_Empathy for beta and for suggesting the ending dialog when I couldn't think of a way to fix the problem with the original ending!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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